Tear is to Shishido
by Kolbie Ru-Ru
Summary: One simple and seemingly unimportant word that describes Ryou more often than he would like to admit. Hinted Silver Pair/Boys' Love. Rated for language. Spoilers for both PoT and PoT II


_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own Prince of Tennis/New Prince of Tennis, nor do I own any of its characters. Definitions belong to thefreedictionary website.**

**Tear into: **_to attack with great vigor or violence_

Ryou Shishido isn't a violent person, not really. Sure, he likes a good rumble occasionally, but what self-respecting male _doesn't_ solve his problems with violence?

Ryou could out-argue anyone, of course, but one well-aimed punch and his precious time could be spent much more productively. Self-training, training with Choutaro, rallying with his kohai—Surely the responsible thing to do is to end any distractions quickly and get back to the sport he loves, right?

Right. So Ryou really can't understand why, instead of being praised for his rather noble actions—because that underclassmen really shouldn't have been picking on Choutaro—he has to run one hundred laps around the damn courts.

Ryou thinks his captain is being an ass. Atobe knows Shishido won't actually learn his lesson—that his fighting spirit should be directed to the court—but it's much too amusing _not_ to punish the ever-scowling boy. Choutaro worries that Shishido-san will be angry with him—the whole thing was his fault, after all. Kabaji doesn't do much of anything, really, other than silently observe everything and agree with his captain when prompted.

The aforementioned 'bully' of an underclassmen lies unconscious, severely battered and bruised in the nurse's office, dreaming of skittish angels and fiery, overprotective demons.

**Tear down: **_to demolish_

Being dropped from the regulars came as a great shock to Ryou Shishido. No one had expected that no-name school to be so powerful, nor had they expected to lose three straight games. However, Ryou was near the top in Hyotei's tennis club, and he was supposed to turn the tides, win it all back, show off his team's power. That's what he was _supposed _to do, anyway.

Reality is harsh, though, and even he lost six games to Fudomine's captain. And as everyone knows, losing a game means being dropped.

Anyone else would have just accepted it. He lost, so there was nothing to be done. He _lost_, so he should have just shrunk back into the hundreds of nameless members at the bottom of the tennis cesspool and let that be the end of it. No one had ever made it back to the top after being tossed aside. It was impossible, impossible, _impossible. _

But Ryou did _not_ quietly accept defeat, did _not _quit or give up, _didn't stop trying_. He trained and trained and trained, worked so hard his body screamed and sweat dripped off it in sheets. He hit ball after ball, ran miles and miles, challenged one member after another. Gradually, he tore down the walls limiting his potential, the shell of his old self, and improved beyond all expectations.

And finally, _finally_, with a little help from his captain, a lot of help from Choutaro, the defeat of a regular, and the cutting of his own hair, Ryou Shishido was _(reborn)_ allowed to become a Hyotei regular.

**Tear away: **_to remove (oneself, for example) unwillingly or reluctantly_

The U-17 camp was another step towards excelling at tennis. It was another chance for Ryou Shishido and Choutaro Otori to play doubles together. It was a facility housing tennis players, honing tennis players, serving tennis players _for_ tennis players. That's what said junior high students thought, anyway.

What it _turned out _to be was nothing anyone expected.

_It's just cruel_, Ryou thinks as he notices the anguished expression on his partner—no, opponent's face, _that they sprung this on us without any warning. _This is, thankfully, only the second time Ryou's had to witness such an expression, but then, he remembers, he wasn't the one that snapped his friend out of his hesitance, was he? No, that was Seigaku's Kikumaru. He glances over to the red-head and notices that he is also holding back.

Mentally cursing all of the U-17 staff, getting especially creative when the man with glasses that caused all of this comes to mind, Ryou lets out an irritated sigh and snaps at Choutaro. When the silver-haired teen finally comes to his senses, Ryou grins and, attributing the flush on the other male's cheeks to adrenaline, goes all out against his kohai.

A couple of arduous and disgustingly sentimental matches later, Ryou stands at the front of the losing group as they say their good-byes. Not wanting to embarrass himself any further, he merely nods in Choutaro's direction and tells him not to screw up or something equally as indifferent. _(I believe in you)_ Unsurprisingly, Otori's smile is sad, but he continues to beam at Shishido as if he'd understood a hidden message. _ (I won't let you down) _

Ryou doesn't correct him.

**Tear up: **_to tear to pieces_

Of all of the holidays Shishido finds annoying—and that's basically all of them, mind you—Valentine's Day is definitely the one that grates on his rather small amount of nerves the most.

Hyped up, giggling girls _stalking_ him throughout the entire day, shoving boxes and bags of chocolate into his face, and unashamedly grabbing him in _private_ places—Ryou really cannot sympathize with the moping males that only receive chocolate from family members.

He has honestly never been able to fathom his underclassmen being jealous over such a thing.

The other popular Hyotei members obviously get just as much attention, if not more, in Atobe's case, but they actually _enjoy_ it. Of course, their fans don't _need_ to be so aggressive because they willingly accept it, and it would probably make Ryou's life much easier if he would just do the same, but _damn it_, if those girls weren't so annoying...

Every single gift he receives throughout the day is angrily tossed into the nearest trash bin, or else, he passes it to an 'unfortunate' classmate that has yet to receive any.

_Che_, he clicks his tongue as he opens his locker and finds it stuffed full of various treats and love letters. He hears a familiar chuckle behind him and turns to find Choutaro. Brows furrowed and scowl in place, he spits out, "It's _not _funny."

Easy smile and hands up in surrender, he replies, "I didn't say it was." Ryou turns away with a disbelieving huff and begins to tear up the Valentine's cards and letters.

Conflict avoided, Choutaro watches his sempai with a thoroughly amused expression and adds, "You know, Shishido-san, if you'd get a proper lock, they wouldn't be able to break into your locker every time." He gestures to the old lock with a key hole instead of the usual combination found on every other locker.

Rolling his eyes and wondering just how many times they'd already had this discussion, Ryou grits out, "And _you know_, I hate those damn things." He glances back up to Choutaro, recognizing the look on his face. "It's _not_ because I don't know how to open one!" Even more irritated now, as if that were possible, Ryou slams his locker shut, not even bothering to use the key to lock it, and stalks away.

Sighing at his partner's stubbornness, Choutaro shoves the box of chocolates he'd had hidden behind his back into _his _locker and locks it before catching up to his sempai.

**Tear around: **_to move about in excited, often angry haste_

Ryou Shishido was _not_ happy. In fact, he was so far from being happy that he'd even passed it a few times on the emotional scale, coming close to but never quite reaching hysterical.

Some might question such a statement. Since when is Shishido-san ever anything other than irritated, angry, or smug? Happy is usually never used to describe Ryou's emotional state. How is anyone to know he's actually _concerned_ when he seems just as himself as always?

The third years of the Hyotei tennis team, the ones that have known him the longest, can tell quite easily. Sitting and waiting patiently for any news, Keigo, Yuushi, and Mukahi watch their distressed team member pace about the room in stiff, awkward movements, such movements being imperceptible to anyone else. The brunette's breathing is uneven, and his appearance is disheveled. They idly wonder when he's going to explode.

Growing rather bored of the silence, Gakuto starts a conversation with Oshitari. Atobe's attention is garnered by the young, petite nurses that suddenly asked for a picture with him. He agrees, of course. Kabaji is called upon to take said picture, and Jirou is, unsurprisingly, fast asleep and has been since they arrived. Hiyoshi had already left, mumbling about how being there wasn't helping, anyway.

With another hour having gone by and no new information, Ryou's nearly at his boiling point. Before he can say or do anything, however, a man in a white coat and glasses looking to be in his early forties steps into the room and announces, "Is there a Shishido Ryou in the room?" All of the regulars turn their heads towards the man.

A moment passes, and he's about to ask again when a boy in a blue cap stalks to him and says, "Yeah, I'm Shishido Ryou. What do you want?"

Momentarily taken aback by the boy's rudeness, the doctor merely states, "Otori Choutaro-kun wants to see you. Come to the back with me." He abruptly about faces and heads back through the double doors. Without even glancing back at his teammates, Shishido quickly follows after the older man.

As they make their way through the long halls and large rooms full of equipment, Ryou notices many people either hooked up to tubes and unconscious or hooked up to tubes and looking miserable. He suspects one man has passed on until he gives a great snort and shifts to his side.

Shivering at the gloomy aura surrounding the entire area, he quickens his pace, not wanting to be here any longer but desperat—er, wanting to make sure his doubles partner isn't too badly injured. He can't play in matches without Choutaro, after all—It's not that he's concerned.

He maintains this thought until they finally reach the right room, and he takes in the sight of the silver-haired boy wrapped in bandages and covered in wires and tubes himself. Feeling light-headed and knees trembling, he slowly makes his way over to the bed, mouth a thin line.

Choutaro smiles weakly up at him and raises a hand in greeting. "Shishido-san..."

Relief flooding through him, Ryou collapses into the chair settled beside the bed and buries his face into his hands. He almost manages to bottle his emotions, but his composure crumbles when he feels a slight pressure on his head, indicating a tanned hand trying to comfort _him_.

"You _idiot_..."

**Tear off: **_to produce hurriedly and casually_

Choutaro Otori is a nice guy. He's polite, soft-spoken, non-confrontational, friendly, charming, etc. Ryou Shishido is an asshole. He's rude, loud and opinionated, often violent, antisocial, scary, etc. These two young men are complete opposites of one another. They are also best friends and doubles partners in tennis.

If one were to question Choutaro about their friendship, he'd laugh and say, "Shishido-san's not that bad. He just takes some getting used to, that's all." If one were to doubt such a thing, Choutaro would add, "He's a really good friend, honest!"

If one were to question Shishido-san the same, he'd probably make a rude gesture and simply order them to "fuck off." The doubt would remain.

Ryou acknowledges these differences and has come to the conclusion that they work well together. The how's and the why's aren't all that important. Choutaro admires his sempai and is merely glad he gets the chance to be paired up with Shishido-san.

The silver-haired teen, being himself, has obviously always remembered to buy a gift for his partner for special occasions and holidays and delivers without fail. Valentine's Day is no different. Ryou normally forgets until the last minute and has to scrounge up his savings and head out to buy a cheap, convenience store gift to give to his kohai. Valentine's Day is no different.

So why is Ryou Shishido out shopping two weeks before said holiday, two months' allowance in hand, seeming lost and out of place amongst the many vendors and frenzied shoppers?

Though he would never admit it to anyone, even the one whom the gift is meant for, he wants to be prepared beforehand at least once in this damn gift-giving thing they have going, and he also wants to surprise his partner, whom now seems unsurprised every time Ryou forgets a holiday.

_Che_, he clicks his tongue and becomes irritated as he so often does at Choutaro. _If he wants a fucking special present or something, he should take the fucking time to remind me._

Even if he's told beforehand, he can simply choose not to do such an out-of-character act, right? Given past events and his personality, Ryou would normally agree with whomever uttered this statement, though only in his own head.

Unfortunately—or maybe, it's actually fortunate, in this case—February 14th holds another special meaning. Rather than celebrating this godforsaken meaningless holiday full of couples and sweets and declarations of love, Shishido is celebrating his kohai's birthday that just so happens to fall on the same date—er, that is, the same day.

The thought of 'date' and 'Choutaro' together makes Ryou warm and tingly, which can only be a sign of an on-coming fever, surely. Shaking his head to dispel it of such thoughts, he looks around at all of the department stores and realizes he has no fucking clue where he should go or what he should buy.

Ryou is a man that lives in the moment, so he rarely plans ahead. When thinking of this little outing, he only got as far as 'get something awesome that will one-up every gift ever given ever'. Cursing everyone he knows and all of the people around—except Choutaro because he's sure bad luck will come of it. He's trying to do something nice for once, damn it—he stalks into the first store to his left.

"Aha!"

After an hour or so and a lot of haggling, Ryou returns to his home triumphant and proud of himself. He goes straight to his room and unloads everything onto his bedroom floor. As he leans back and takes in all of the items, he sports a cocky grin and chuckles quietly to himself.

"No one can say I just threw my present together now..."

**Tear at: **_to distress greatly_

"This _isn't_ happening... ahahaha... Just.. No, nononononono!"

Ryou Shishido is _not_ freaking out. Really, he's not. And why should he? No, this is just a misunderstanding, he tells himself. There's no way that's what Choutaro meant. No way. But then again... _No! _He shakes his head fervently.

He thinks back to the phone call he'd just had with his kohai. It had started normally, what with Choutaro asking about him and his whereabouts and then telling him _his_ plans. Then, he recalls, then Choutaro had asked to meet up at the local theme park. That's not weird, right? No, no, it's not. They meet up all the time. Alone. To hang out, that is. Nothing else. _Nothing else. _

Why is he...uh... not... freaking out, then? About... Ryou racks his brains and remembers. Two days ago he had revealed to Choutaro that his favorite _dating spot _was that same _theme park_ where _they_ are supposed to _meet up_. It's _not_ what it sounds like. He's just reading too much into things, surely.

….It's not a _date_, right? Right. It's _not_ a date, and he's _not_ freaking the fuck out.

He's _not_ going on a date, so he's _not_ going to dress nice. He's also _not_ going to wear cologne, and he's definitely _not_ bringing extra cash to _not_ pay for his _not_ a date, Choutaro. He's also _not _nervous, and he's _not _perspiring too much—It's just hot, even with the AC on.

He's _not_ even looking forward to their _not_ a date, and he's _not_ imagining what Choutaro's lips feel like, even if they're kind of delicious-looking. He's, surely, _not_ hoping that their _not_ a date leads to hands roaming and clothes missing, and he's _not_ feeling warmth in strange places.

He's also _not_ stopping at a gas station to take care of a little problem before arriving, and he's _not_ going to think about why that _didn't_ just happen.

And when he finally reaches that little theme park on the other side of town, he's actually glad that all of the Hyotei regulars are there—Surely relief had always felt like a punch to the gut.

**Tears: **_the act of weeping_

He's not crying. There's something in his eye, damn it!

Okay, yeah, liquid is coming out of his eyes in droplets, but he's not _crying_.

They lost. So _what_? He doesn't care.

Sure, if he'd have been a little faster, trained a little more, done this instead of that, they could have won.

But he's not thinking of that. And he's not crying.

Choutaro doesn't _need_ to wrap his arms around Ryou, doesn't _need_ to comfort him.

The silver-haired boy is crying, albeit quietly, so _he_ should be comforted.

It's embarrassing, he thinks, to cry because of a tennis match, even if that's not what he's doing.

He only begins to cry _with Choutaro_ so that he's not alone in the shameful act.

He expects teasing remarks. He gets sympathetic glances.

He expects laughter. He gets somber silence.

He expects blame. He gets shared reprimand.

"This is super lame."

"Yeah."

**A/N: I probably really butchered their characters, but I had fun attempting write them. Also, sorry it got so emotional. I only meant the very last one to be that way, but my need to make everything mushy showed itself once again. I would love to hear your opinions! :D**


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